


A whole life time's worth (and then some).

by the0dyssey



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Based on a Tumblr Post, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Civil War Fix-It, Coming Out, Declarations Of Love, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Steve Rogers, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), References to The First Avenger, Some angst, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24811036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the0dyssey/pseuds/the0dyssey
Summary: One letter, two best friends, and three words that both of them were too afraid to admit to each other. Well, until an old sweatshirt and a new note gives them the courage they need to finally admit their feelings (and it turns out there's a life time's worth, and then some).
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 133





	A whole life time's worth (and then some).

Steve wandered down the hall of the residential floor. He had the rest of the day to himself. The tower was unusually quiet on account of Nat, Clint, Bucky, and Sam being out on a mission and Tony rebuilding his home in Malibu. Everyone else still in New work was either out and about, or minding their own business. Maybe both.

It was rather disappointing. He occupied his morning in the gym for a few hours, but decided to call it quits after breaking through a fourth punching bag. With a quick note to Jarvis he was able to order replacements, but the catharsis of feeling his fists against the vinyl ended when it shot across the room.

Following a quick shower, Steve planned on just chilling on the common floor and maybe crossing a few things off his list. He had his eye on Star Wars, but he didn’t quite know where to start — he would have to ask Peter about that, but he didn’t come around the tower except on weekends and today was only Tuesday.

But, as he continued down the hallway, he stalled in front of Bucky’s door. It looked the same as it usually did, which was closed, but something was drawing Steve to it.

Ever since he got Bucky back, watching him leave on mission after mission hurt. He missed his best friend. More than missed. More than a best friend, he hoped.

He opened the door slowly after doing a double take down the hall to make sure he was truly alone. Standing in Bucky’s space helped a bit to fill the void caused by his absence. Bucky really hadn’t changed since they shared an apartment in Brooklyn back in the day, solely in the way he was still untidy. His bed was unmade with a ridiculous number of blankets tossed around. It took every ounce of Steve’s will power not to curl up in them and take a nap, but Bucky with all his super-soldier senses would probably be able to tell someone had been in there.

“Oh that jerk,” Steve’s eyes fell to Bucky’s desk chair, where his Dodger’s hoodie was laid over the back. (Steve was still salty about their move to L.A., snd therefore refused to call his beloved baseball team anything other than the Brooklyn Dodgers.) “I’ve been looking for this sweatshirt everywhere.”

He contemplated taking it back, but ultimately decided to leave it there for now.

After standing there for another moment, he reluctantly decided that he should get going. As he turned round to leave, he caught sight of his name written on the top of a piece of paper in Bucky’s handwriting. Steve slid it out from under a pile of other papers and things on his desk and began reading.

_Steve—_

_Sam told me that writing can be a good place to start organizing my thoughts. I did it a bit when I was in Romania. Anything I could remember got put down in a book._

_I’m trying to get better, Steve. I’d be lying if I said I was doing it only for myself, but I’ve been told (by Sam of course) that I don’t have to do things out of obligation for others anymore. And I am getting better I think. I feel more comfortable with the team, but it’s my own head that I’m afraid of. I’m trying to be better for both of us, so I’m writing this to you. I doubt if you’ll ever read it._

_I’m not trying to write something profound. Believe me when I say that. What I’m writing is simple, desperate, true. It’s really nothing more than that. Or less. It’s just a plain statement: I’m gay and I’m in love with you._

_I don’ t remember when it happened exactly, but the first time I said it out loud was when I was lying in that snow in Europe. Those would’ve been my last words. I would do it again, because taking that blow meant you living. I would pick your life over mine a thousand times. And I know what it means to say that - to take torture and pain for a lifetime over and over again just to make sure you got out safe._

_But I realize it in other ways too, ones that aren’t all life and death. Like the other night when we were watching Lilo and Stitch for the first time together and your eyes lit up, or the intense focus you get when you’re wrapping your knuckles at the gym, or the way your hold your head before you’ve gotten a cup of coffee in the morning. Even before then too, like when we bought that place together in Brooklyn and you had the flu and cussed me out when I tried to bring you some soup._

_Things from the war are still a little foggy, but I think I remember what happened after Azzano when you found me. I couldn’t believe it was actually you. I thought I had died, because even then, being with you was my idea of a heaven._

_I think I came to terms with the way I felt about romance the night before I shipped out, when we went to the World’s Fair. I couldn’t tell you that I wasn’t actually taking you on a double date with those dames. There was an underground network of people like me. We would hang out in groups and make it look like a normal couple, but it was all an act. I never understood why love was a crime, and I would be damned if I didn’t do my part to make others happy. — When we were looking for an apartment together, I didn’t pick DUMBO just because the rent was cheap. You probably picked up on that, but you spent more time sick in bed than ever out on the town, but that’s okay._

_When I saw the Pride parade for the first time, I couldn’t believe it. People are out! I want to live my best life like that, but I don’t know how to now. So I’m starting by writing up this letter. Part of me wants to shred it now, or maybe slide it under your door. Either way, I said it and that’s what matters._

Steve read over the letter again, blinking away tears that formed in the corner of his eyes. He specifically reread over the part where it said _I love you._ His breath caught in his throat. He always had a sneaking suspicion that Bucky enjoyed the company of men and women, and boy was he glad to have confirmation.

He knew the love he felt for Peggy wasn’t the same as what he felt for Bucky. Maybe it was the war-time adrenaline mixed with the thought that he might die going after Schmidt that lit the fire under their asses and made them kiss, but it didn’t quite sit well with him. Steve never admitted it, even to himself until now, that he wished it had been Bucky in that car sitting next to Colonel Phillips. He loved Bucky.

“Captain Rogers,” Jarvis’s voice interrupted Steve’s runaway train of thought. “You wished to know when Sergeant Barnes and company returned from their mission?”

“Yes, Jarvis.”

“The Quinjet will be arriving in approximately five minutes.”

_Five minutes!_ “Thanks Jarvis.”

“Anytime, Captain.”

Steve took one last good look at the letter before returning it to the exact same place he found it. He felt a twinge of guilt that he violated Bucky’s privacy, but that feeling was overcome by the excitement to see him. Closing the bedroom door behind him, he made his way down to the common floor.

The mission was mostly recon, so the exhaustion that followed the four was mostly due to jet lag. All Steve knew was that they were posted in Odessa, gathering intel on a potential Hydra sleeper-cell. After they cleaned up, they ate dinner in near silence and all went their separate ways to sleep it off, except for Steve and Bucky. They had a post-mission tradition.

The two settled on the couch under a shared blanket and scrolled through the Disney classics, opting to watch something they had both seen before since Bucky was absolutely wiped and probably wouldn’t make it passed the first twenty minutes.

As the oh-so familiar opening of Peter Pan played out, Steve’s heart fluttered. “You know I love you, Buck,” he said softly.

“I know punk.” Sleepiness laced his voice.

Steve turned off the movie, which produced a groan of discontent from Bucky, then turned completely towards him.

“No, I mean, I love you. Like, _love you_ love you.”

Bucky turned. “What are you saying?”

Steve froze. Could he have been wrong? Could he have imagined the whole thing?

“Never mind, it’s fine,” Steve got up quickly and headed towards the stairs, and took them by twos until he was on his floor.

However, Bucky was caught up to him just before Steve got into his room. He took Steve by the hips and maneuvered him up against the doorframe, leaving a mere inch of space between their noses. Steve could feel the difference between the metal and flesh hand, but both were gentle and firm.

“Was that you coming out to me?”

Steve let out a shaky breath, then looked him in the eye. “Yes.”

Then Bucky pressed into him bodily, pulling their lips together hot and fast. They moved back into Steve’s room and fell backwards onto his bed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Bucky said softly.

“Let me take a guess, since the thirties?”

“Shut up punk.”

“Make me.”

***

The next morning, Steve woke up and found himself tangled up with Bucky and about four displaced sheets and blankets. His arm was across Bucky’s chest — and man, Bucky’s chest was a mess. Bruises were littered from his navel to his neck. Steve smiled.

He carefully lifted his arm and extracted himself from the mix of fabric and skin, not wanting to wake Buck up. It wasn’t often that he looked this peaceful. Even when they were watching movies Bucky looked pensive, but now he looked so dreamy and relaxed.

Steve had a plan. He was going to make Bucky’s favorite breakfast, and surprise him with it in bed. It was simple — Bucky loved pancakes. He grabbed a shift off the floor and crept out of the suite in that and his boxers, heading downstairs for the kitchen.

The common area was alive with noise. Clint and Nat were laughing over the bar with orange juice glasses in hand, while Sam manned the stove top making eggs.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Sam asked, catching the first sight of Steve.

“Or rather _who_ happened?” Nat winked.

Steve’s face flushed pink, and his hand flew up to his forehead out of embarrassment. _Of course_ he would be just as messed up as Bucky. Even with the serum, he would still be marked.

“Oh my god,” Clint added, looking behind Steve.

Bucky padded down behind him, shirtless, and wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “You took my shirt.”

Sure enough. Steve looked down and saw that he had grabbed Bucky’s soft navy shirt instead of his own and hadn’t even noticed.

“I would’ve put on yours, but seeing that you wear them so tight that the seams scream, I didn’t want to risk shredding it.”

“Dude’s got a point,” Sam said. “It couldn’t hurt to size up.”

Steve looked up and caught Clint sliding Nat a twenty dollar bill.

“I hate all of you,” Steve said.

Bucky turned him around and gave him a kiss on the forehead. “No you don’t.”

“No, I don’t."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for reading!  
> Find me on Tumblr to read updates on my other works: http://margots0dyssey.tumblr.com/


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